RuneScape Forum Archive | Fall From Grace

Jul

2020

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His clothes which were tailored to fit his body -- a structure that was a pleasable balance between lean and muscular -- were some that were worn by most other Solasúians. A doublet, a nice pair of trousers, a pair of cuff boots, and some jewelry here and there. Yet despite the place he dwelled, like his hair and skin, his clothes looked like they've never been dirtied, not even a little.

He was the textbook definition of an average Joe, yet somehow, he strangely captivating, spellbinding. Regardless of his appearance, this soul entered the arena. "I'd like to give it a try, if you'd have me," the fellow humbly requested.

"But of course," the operator answered, smiling to his earlobes. "If you've the coin, you've my attention."

The average-looking fellow then reached into a large pouch he had to his side, quite deeply did his hand dive. The shuffling and jingle of coin made the operator's very blood cells jitter in excitement, sniffing out the aromatic scent of dough like bread fresh out of the bakery. The fellow then placed a small pouch onto the table, exactly one hundred coins resided within.

The crowd was shocked to see him pull out that much money, but this was something straight out of a dream for the operator. He could barely keep his own jaw for hitting the floor, trying to hold up these floodgates to prevent all of this drool from coming out. He almost couldn't get the cups set up properly, his hands shook with such exhilaration.

But steadily was his calm restored, his composure gradually returning to him. Utilizing his gifts as a Solasúian, the dealer began to shuffle the cups in a speed that was near impossible to keep up with. They swirled and swooshed around at lightning speed, making everyone wonder if this fellow could possibly succeed. He tried to keep up, putting out at least some effort.
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11-Nov-2016 17:44:45

Jul

2020

Serene End

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After a good shuffling, the operator finally allowed his hands to rest. But his work would not cease quite yet, for there was but one final bit of business to enact. His right foot very slyly pressed into a small, unassuming part of the table's leg, activating a mechanism from within the table.

A very small, very carefully crafted trapdoor opened up at the top of the table where the winning cup just so happened to be, stealing the ball away. It was small enough to properly take the ball, but not disturb the cup, thus eliminating any and all chance that the operator may lose. He grinned fiendishly, removing his foot for the table's leg, thus sealing the trapdoor and his one-hundred coin prize.

The operator then held his hands to shoulder-height, flourishing them before the eyes of his beholders. "So, what'll it be?" he asked the average fellow, honeying well his smug attitude.

"Left," he indicated.

Ready to claim his earnings, the operator firmly wrapped his fingers around the left cup, unveiling its content before the very eyes of his gathering. He was so arrogant to claim his glorious grand prize, but then his ears heard the sound of cheering and applause. The operator's eyes beamed down at the spot, finding that white ball.

The dealer tried his best to hide his shock, playing it off and applauding with the crowd. But internally, internally was a completely different tale. He was screaming from within, absolutely livid, utterly dazed. The trapdoor should've removed the ball from play, and this particular cup didn't even ever possess the ball to begin with. So, how in the world did this happen?

Begrudgingly, the dealer handed a small pouch with one hundred coins inside, smiling rather wryly. "Here you are," he said to the fellow. "You've got some guts, sir! Here is your reward, one hundred coins! Congratulations!"
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11-Nov-2016 17:45:19 - Last edited on 15-Dec-2016 14:54:30 by Serene End

Jul

2020

Serene End

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No one would continue to stake after gaining all of that money, the dealer firmly believed. His mind screamed "go away" in a multitude of ways, hoping not to have to play against this guy again. But then the fellow placed those winnings beside his original bet, a stunning move to everyone in sight. A nervous sweat dripped down from both the operator and the lady who previously 'won', but they both believed that his win was merely a fluke. A stroke of beginner's luck, surely!

As per usual, the operator shuffled the cups around at a neck-breaking pace, he was bound and determined to make this work. Once the cups were settled, the operator activated the hidden trapdoor, dropping the ball out of play and guaranteeing his victory. "So, what'll it be?" he asked once more.

"Right," the fellow answered.

"Ha! What a fool, there's no way he can win," the dealer surely must've thought, gripping the cup firmly. He then pulled it up, disclosing the content out from beneath its wooden veil. And once more, this disgusting, disheartening sound entered into the dealer's ears. The crowd pumped the air with such drunken delight, seeing as the strange fellow won yet again.

No, no, this was absolutely unfathomable to the operator. His blood boiled like hot acid, his face almost turning feverishly red from the pain and ire of loss. And even more bitterly than the last time, the operator handed the fellow two pouches of gold, worth up to two hundred gold pieces.

"It's certainly your day today, isn't it?" The operator commented in a nervous laugh, simultaneously cursing the fellow out in the safety of his thoughts. "W-well, here you are... An astonishing t-two hundred gold pieces! Congratulations!"
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11-Nov-2016 17:46:16

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Without any thought or consideration, the fellow then placed his two hundred gold piece winning beside the other two hundred gold pieces he was originally betting. The operator came close to packing up his things and ditching this fellow, but his pride and reputation were on the line here. And so, the stakes were made numerous times, repeated over and over and over and over and over again, and each time ended in complete and utter failure.

Months of scamming foolheaded drunkards laid to waste in a matter of minutes, the scale practically falling over towards the strange fellow. At the end of the games, the fellow had a small mountain of cash pouches on his side, while the operator was stripped of every coin he had ever earned. He was absolutely destroyed, his soul crushed, and his partner in crime was just as devastated.

"Damn, he got emptied!" said one drunken crowd member.

"Guess it just wasn't his day..." replied another intoxicated Solasúian.

The average-looking fellow sighed rather heavily, disliking the idea of breaking a man so thoroughly as this. Regardless, he pulled his massive winnings into the pouch at his side and then turned towards Calvin beside him. The assassin stared curiously, his pale blue eyes watching as the fellow reached into his pouch of winnings and grab a pouch.

"I believe this belongs to you," the fellow informed Calvin, handing him back the one hundred gold pieces that he was scammed of.

"U-uh," thoughtlessly returned the assassin, uncertain of what to say. "Ya earn it, pal... Ain't mine no more."

"I insist," he calmly persisted.

Well, Calvin couldn't pass up on getting his money back, accepting the fellow's generosity. This individual then began passing out the pouches of money to every soul in sight, giving away his winnings instead of hoarding it all to himself. Spreading joy to every rosy-red cheeked face he came across, no one was stupid enough to waste an opportunity like this.
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11-Nov-2016 17:47:00

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Squirming smiles cropped up all across the pub, filling the air with the sweet sound of deep, plenteous laughter. The idea of survival by the skin of one's teeth an afterthought as of this moment, being bestowed this shiny donation like stumbling upon a crashing comet of gold. This massive pay day without beating a droplet of sweat, they almost couldn't believe their luck.

Those of the merged group of the Lumbridge Resistance and the Lamians were struck rather oddly by this mysterious fellow. In the midst of the congregation of black, Telvern crossed his arms and watched with intrigue. His steely brown eyes followed the fellow exclusively, attempting to gain access to his inner thoughts and memories.

But much to his surprise, the furtive genius strangely couldn't even so much as read his thoughts, much less his memories. He looked on as the fellow handed out all that he could to these people, the wonderful, drunk-out-of-their-mind people. With nothing left, the strange fellow began walking away, until his ears caught wind of a weak, pathetic voice trying to speak.

"You...!" The dealer named viciously, clenching his hands into tight balls of absolute malice. "...You CHEATER!"

How ironic, the average-looking fellow thought, the cheater calling someone a cheater. It was then that this dealer had enough, he absolutely needed to reclaim his stolen cash. In this Alverra, this world, this dog-eat-dog world, one had to do whatever it took to survive. What that fellow took from him, this was his livelihood. His very life, the life of his love, and the lives of their children were on the line.

Fists clenched, the operator went berserk, rushing at the fellow in raging, quaking step. Yet he was blind by this fury, misjudging the size of his table. Part of his body and leg hit the table, sending him stumbling forwards. He was cast off-balance, a state which he attempted to recover from. But he would not regain control over his body, and thus he began to plummet.
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11-Nov-2016 17:47:47

Jul

2020

Serene End

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In a twist of terrible fortune, his quick drop sent his head crashing into the edge of the nearest table. But because of his attempt to recover, his head had moved just enough to now make his head's temple the epicenter of the impact. His skull smashed into the edge of the table in a sickening thud, rendering him unconscious almost instantly.

The lady who previously won, or the operator's plant, was unleashed by this happening. Her hand reached down for her right boot, pulling out a concealed knife. Her face a menacing mask, her eyes ripping the back of the fellow to shreds. Wielding the knife in a reverse, ice-pick grip, the furious Solasúian surged towards her target.

But then immediately, Calvin stepped in front of her, though clearly not expecting that she'd start running. "Hold-a sec...!" the assassin pleaded before getting the wind knocked out of him, surprisingly getting rammed by a lady on a mission of vendetta. Calvin and the lady made contact, sending both stumbling in opposite directions.

The lady stumbled off-balance, but she was making progress to the fellow, who still did not turn to face her. She began to regain herself, eyeing up the blow to make on her target. After regaining most of her balance, she drew closer to her target, so she raised her knife up high.

She prepared to take a strike, desiring so intensely to burrow this knife into the back of his head. But it was as if the universe plotted against her and her husband, for she did not take into account the buckled up floorboards below her. She went into the motion of a downward swing, but her foot got caught inside the buckled floorboard, tripping her up.

She began to plummet downwards whilst well into her attack, hitting the wooden floorboards below. Her teeth fastened together, stunned by the fall. Slowly rising up from the floor, she could heard a strange wooden thud. She lifted her hand up to clench her face, but realized that something was amiss as her hand felt wet.
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11-Nov-2016 17:50:14

Jul

2020

Serene End

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The lady looked down and found blood on her hand, a frightful sight indeed. In fear, she frantically examined herself and was utterly terrified by the findings, noticing her own knife laying in a puddle of blood and a stab wound straight down the center of her abdomen. She came to realize that when she fell, she had actually stabbed herself.

Calvin had followed the entire offense she had mounted, and he came to realize the finality of this course of action. He instantly jolted off to be by her side, the disturbing visuals of her intense, ceaseless blood loss reflecting off of his eyes. Others from his family in black flocked over to his location, trying their best to contain the bleeding.

Calvin took the very coat right off of his own back, applying every ounce of pressure he could muster to cease the bleeding. But it became very quickly apparent that this would not be, his efforts were growing steadily futile. "Dammit, musta hit-'n artery..." he growled under his breath.

"It would seem that way," the merchant-turned-assassin Kereske agreed with this suspicion.

Calvin's head then quickly twisted to his right, his pale blue eyes quickly locating Telvern. "Egghead!" Calvin called in a shout. "Ya got any-a dem magical ponies?"

"...No," the furtive genius responded, discouraging the Lamians attempting to save this lady's life.

As they scrambled around to find some kind of way to preserve her life, new activity would surface. The cloth drape entry way forced upwards, disclosing several rough-looking, ragged-wear characters out from under this dirty, faded green veil. They stepped into the lighthearted atmosphere, only to find a mess had been made all over the place.

Among them was a familiar face, that previous attacker whom Raphael had spared. That familiar face then pointed out the group the second he saw them, lashing his index finger as deadly as a weapon. "Them, it was them!" the familiar individual declared.
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11-Nov-2016 17:51:53

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Hearing this proclamation shoot into the atmosphere drew everyone's attention, the eyes of every single member of this merged following of assassins and rebels immediately found themselves the target of a handful of armed, fur-mantled Solasúians. The air grew with a heated tension, this stare down between two confronting forces which preluded to battle.

"Pardon me," then said the average-looking fellow to one such rough looking individual at the front, a savage, barbaric Solasúian female wielding a battleaxe. "Put away your weapons and leave. There's no need for violence."

Irritation grew very rapidly within this group, and especially so for the one hotheaded Solasúian female in the front. Oh, how fantastic it would feel if such an annoyance's head were mounted up on a pike for all to marvel upon. The barbarian offered little restraint, giving fully to the temptations of her own vicious, ravenous bloodlust. Backed by her Solasúian might, she swung for the fences, feeling the urge to sever this fellow's precious little head from his shoulders.

As she was about to take a swing, the fellow noticed something on the ground, making him drop down and examine it. This act caused her to just miss him, yet something occurred that was completely to the surprise of everyone in the room. Courtesy of an arrogant grip and somewhat sweaty palms, the force of the swing stripped the Solasúian of her battleaxe, sending it darting in the direction of one of her allies.

The axe's head caught that comrade in the throat, nearly detaching his head from his body. He dropped onto his knees as he violently gasped for breath, tasting nothing but the irony flavor of his own blood. In the midst of this, the fellow located the object which drew his attention, a shiny ol' coin which must've fallen from his pocket.
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11-Nov-2016 17:53:45

Jul

2020

Serene End

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The intoxicated folks of the pub were obviously quite entertained by all of this fighting, not a soul even so much as attempted to cease its persistence. They all cheered and delighted in the bloodbath, even the red-haired archer sat back at the bar counter and watched this thriller with a cold ale in his hand.

The bloodthirsty Solasúian was breathtaken by what had occurred, but she didn't allow it to stay her. No, if anything, it only exacerbated her need for his head. She came swinging at him, wanting his head, even if it meant she had to rip it off with her bare hands. Her yellowish, rotting teeth so powerfully clamped shut that it felt like they could shatter at any moment, her eyes so wide open that it seemed they could pop out of her head. In essence, she just really, really wanted him dead.

But she couldn't seem to hit him, not even once. It's not like his dodges were perfectly timed or he clearly predicted where she was going to attack him, it almost seemed like he were just picking directions at random and she happened to keep swinging at him in each direction he chose. He made no attempt to counter her, just continuing to passively avoid her relentless offense.

He made one last step off to his right, and revealed behind him was a certain silver-haired young man, armed and acting. He plunged his blade straight into her breast, coming clean through her back. Her breath was stolen from her, receiving a swift boot and a delivery onto the ground. Her body crashing onto the ground, Raphael turning his stern-eyed gaze onto the next.

No longer able to keep herself back, Libitina drew out her blades and headed into the fray. She went into combat with this new sense of pacifism, to not use these blades as tools for murder, but for protection. Watching as Libitina and several others throw themselves into harm's way, Daevarro had every intention of doing so himself, albeit somewhat anxiously, until a hand reached out and grabbed him.
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11-Nov-2016 17:55:17

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Daevarro quickly spun his head in the direction of that which halted him, finding a hand clenching his shoulder. His faintly glowing hazel eyes followed that hand up its arm, locating its owner as Telvern. "What are you doing?" Daevarro questioned, reasonably.

"There's no need to participate in this battle," he calmly returned.

"...What?" the dark-robed young man muttered in disbelief. "But if we don't help, they might get hurt or worse!"

"No, they won't," Telvern dismissed, confidently murdering Daevarro's concerns. "Just... observe. You'll see."

Despite Daevarro's very own concerns and feelings telling him otherwise, he conformed to Telvern's advice. His legs begged, screamed at him to rush in, but he screamed back at them to stand still. Raphael kept Telvern closely enough to him to take his advice, so Daevarro had to believe in this advisor. He stayed his stead, playing spectator to his allies as they took on and won against opponents in the most unusual of ways.

Raphael stood prepared and braced for the next one, a hulking, muscular Solasúian wielding an old claymore. He took aim at Raphael, the only one who seemed to be interested in taking the offensive. The Solasúian then took a big swing at Raphael, casting his claymore downward in a ferocious strike. Having believed such an explosive attack to come, Raphael gracefully stepped aside.

The Solasúian's claymore zoomed past Raphael, but now his blade headed into the end of a table. The blade collided with the table at full steam, and its old, weathered steel just couldn't handle the force which bore upon it. Right before the Solasúian's glowing teal blue eyes, the blade shattered in an instant, but some of it... Some of it reached out to those eyes.
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11-Nov-2016 17:56:07

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